


Everyday, properly

by agosu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Friendship, One Shot, Realistic, and drinking tea, bs about being alive, its not fluff its not angst either, just having a convo with kita, looking back on high school, mainichi yannen chanto yannen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27629870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agosu/pseuds/agosu
Summary: Three wasted years and more. What's a life properly lived?
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	1. True And Kind

**Top of the** class, not once a failing grade, diligent and proper, Mr. No Gaps Kita Shinsuke from a couple desks away. Both a person and a mind worth envying and admiring. Where he turns in his assignments in time and never needs a second chance, [Name] shrugs her shoulders under heaps of procrastination materialized into blank pages and a 23 that does nothing to motivate her to try. Where he raises his hand to nail every question thrown his way, she doodles asymmetrical shapes next to the unreadable kanji she is meant to study from later.

The clock changes and time ticks away. It's still English class. Unstimulating and simple, as it has been for the past years; the most she can get out of it is some deeper lore for her D&D world-building. The teacher hands back a test with a 99 circled on top. She scans the paper for her one mistake, flickering through half-assed words and letters that only exist if she squints at the graphite.

_Ah._

She finds her error.

Yeah, she could've avoided that. She shrugs to herself before slipping another 99 inside her binder. The teacher goes off to explain even more sentence structures and [Name] spares a glance at Kita a few desks away again.

He knows the language, he knows the material, he knows the answers to any question he could be possibly asked. Yet he sits down, pen in hand, back straight against his chair, and he listens intently to every word he can jot onto his notebook for later reference.

Where he earns an effortless 100 on every paper, [Name] hovers above 97 and on the edge of 99.9 without a care. Where he has become captain in the sport he poured his heart and soul into since middle-school, she ties her earphones around her neck like a noose and fiddles with a screwdriver on anything she can find. Where he wants to carry things out properly, she starts projects that never see completion while browsing the depths of YouTube.

 **Average and bordering** on senioritis, flipping between 20's and 90's like a metronome, present but absent, Ms. Well Whatever [Surname] [Name] from a few desks behind him. A walking contradiction, as Kita's own book defines her. Where she can easily snatch the top spot of the class from his nimble fingers, she instead uses her chair as a swing and counts the tiles on the ceiling. Where the school offers her endless chances to make her potential shine, she instead arrives late to class because she made a stop at the vending machine.

Something didn't add up for Kita upon first acknowledging her. Not anyone could make it into advanced classes, yet this careless girl managed to stick around for their entire first year with grades that mimicked a lifeline.

As class representative, he saw it fit to take matters into his own hands. After going through each of his classmates and the observations he had built through the months, he approached [Name] as she sat by herself.

"[Surname], can I have a word with ya?"

She looked up from her phone with a raised brow. "Sure?"

"Why won't ya put yer brain to good use for the whole year, rather than every other week?"

Her brows furrowed. She wasn't offended, but taken aback. "I don't see why?" Her head shook slightly and her shoulders shrugged. "I passed, anyway."

"The end don't justify the means, [Surname]."

"I ain't tryna justify 'em." That shrug of hers seemed to be a must. She shoved her phone inside her skirt as she rose from her chair. A sigh squeezed out from between her teeth. "Ya keep doin' you, Kita. I'll survive. See ya in a few weeks."


	2. Knife Sharp As Can Be

**Where he builds** himself upon the small things he does each day, she cares only about the end result—and even then it's hard to believe she cares. Where he does things properly each day, she shrugs her way through everything. Where their demeanors and approach to life contrast wildly, they share appreciation for one thing.

 **Early in their** second year, only two weeks after their conversation, they found each other in the same class once more. [Name] nodded to him as a greeting as she approached his desk.

She pulled a green cardboard box out of her satchel. Kita stared up at her with questioning eyes. Of course, she shrugged.

"No one's ever told me I'm lazy as balls to my face. I thought 'twas funny so I bought ya some tea." The box found its way to his palms. Words printed in white he couldn't read, and below them he saw _Herbal Mix_ in English.

Opinions are opinions and facts are facts. In his honest opinion, [Surname] was a lazy underachiever. He couldn't speak facts.

Out of courtesy, he saved the box. "Wouldja share it with me?" Out of curiosity, he offered an invitation.

"I'd rather chill alone."

A smile painted his visage. "One cup won't hurt."

"Yeah, sure." She shrugged into the start of a friendship.

Where one cup becomes countless of them, and being alone is no longer an option.


	3. Strike Back

**It's their third** and last year of high-school, still in the same class and still filling the same roles. The 100 of his class and the average of 90's. He remains turning in his assignments in time, while only last week she handed in a math test blank because she doesn't like drawing graphs.

They decide to share another cup of tea in a breezy afternoon. Where they usually divert their paths, Kita follows her left and to her house. Much like the first time, she forces him to wait at the table as she boils the water and soaks porcelain in flavor.

He had been surprised on his first visit, shortly after the spontaneous offer that leaped off his tongue. [Surname] never cared to do anything adequately, taking all credit both when they failed or somehow succeeded. The weight of indifference vanished from her body as she carefully prepared two cups, hands gentle and fingers dancing with softness.

Tea had never tasted so powerful; his tongue could pick apart every single spice mixed in a package.

She settles across from him, white porcelain knocking twice on wood. The inevitable topic of the future pops up before his second sip. "What're yer plans after graduation?" he asks someone that doesn't know what they'll eat for dinner in a few hours.

[Surname] sets her cup down. Elbow beside it, cheek in her palm. "Physics," she replies with a shrug—she always shrugs—, as if it were a matter of fact. "What 'bout you?"

"I'll take over my family's rice farm."

"Sounds like somethin' Kita Shinsuke can pull off. I know _I_ can't." She puffs her cheeks and blows out air.

"S'all 'bout doin' it properly. Everyday, properly."

"As admirable as that is, there're things I don't care enough 'bout ta do 'em properly."

"Things like what?"

"Geography, makin' friends, payin' attention during economy, bein' alive."

He brings his cup up only for it to freeze before it reaches his lips. His eyes find hers. "You don't care 'bout bein' alive?" He forgets the beverage in his hand.

"I ain't really good at it, so I stopped carin' 'bout doin' it properly. Same with the other things. Hats off to ya for bein' so diligent, though."

"Ya still properly brew tea an' properly ace yer math tests."

"Yeah, I ain't sayin' I don't care 'bout anything. I ain't good at livin', but I don't wanna die. So I play with numbers ta pass the time."

"What's livin' life properly for ya?"

"I dunno." Her shoulders lift longer than usual. "Not wastin' my time and actually doin' all the things I wanna do. Maybe, I dunno."

"I think repetition, perseverance, and diligence just feel good. That's a life properly lived."

"Don't think I could do that. I only see things through if they matter. I agree, diligence's good, but I can't go above seventy percent of myself."

"I'll take it ya'll see yer physics career through, then."

"Long as it matters to me."

"Ya should try puttin' in more than seventy."

"Ya keep doin' you, Kita—"

"You'll survive."

They finish the last bits of their teas. Mentalities unchangeable and thoughts standing on parallel; face to face, endlessly, never overlapping. They don't need to agree, they just have to talk.

 **Spring carried mist** over the mountains, Summer followed close behind. Fall creeped by until Winter seeped in. Repetition just feels good. Spring comes back before anyone can blink to start the cycle again.

It's time to graduate and leave behind years worth of useless knowledge and unnecessary all-nighters. They hold diplomas between fingers that hooked around twin teacups. Words they shared still taste fresh on their tongues, like the first bag full of spice she ever soaked in steaming water.

Mr. No Gaps Kita Shinsuke graduated at the top of his class; Ms. Well Whatever [Surname] [Name] shrugged her way out of high-school. He did things properly and she survived.

The crows cry out their song to the sinking sun, sky a flaming red hue. An unsightly envy simmers in [Name]'s chest as she walks next to Kita for the umpteenth and last time in her life. Wasted high-school years replay in her mind and his words relentless beat down upon her.

He makes her want to live a proper life.

They cross the school gates. She finds his eyes reflecting a bright future. A lazy smile crawls onto her lips.

Orange fades into a palette of cool pastel colors. "S'most likely we won't meet again. I'll probably forget 'bout ya."

"Seems like ya still prefer bein' alone."

"S'always better to be alone than in bad company."

"Ya sayin' I'm bad company?"

"D'ya see me tryna leave this conversation?"

There are carefree notes of laughter mixing with the flapping of feathers into the horizon. There's no space for silence as they stop to face each other.

"I wanna forget my high-school years," [Name] lets her criminal thoughts billow to the Spring clouds. She swings her diploma like a fallen tree branch. "Whatever ya set out to do, do it properly. Though you don't need _me_ to tell ya that."

"I'd say the same to ya. Bye, [Surname]."

She throws a bored wave behind an uninterested shoulder. "Goodbye, Kita." Slipping off her tongue, is a farewell building up over three years.

As the night swallows her in blue, Kita is another friend not properly made, lost to the sunset in the distance. She holds her diploma in one hand and tightens her fingers around Kita's words. Truths too bitter to drink down, but too precious to let go of.


End file.
